


Interludes

by SwedishTaco



Series: Assassins, Gods, and Dragon's Blood [2]
Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Mentions of Suicide, Supernatural Elements, character insights, companion work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3087440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwedishTaco/pseuds/SwedishTaco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion pieces to Whispering Sands. These sections and ideas were either too long, or didn't fit well with the rest of the main chapters. Think of them as deleted scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. For the Asking

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is a section from chapter 4 that fits between where we last see the trio together, and when we see Maria and Manolo a little bit later on. It's how Maria got the magic book.

María had practically dragged Manolo home. Getting him up the stairs to their bedroom had been a struggle. She had managed to get the story out of him, though he was hesitant to tell it. During the fight with Joaquín, Manolo had been struck in the head. María hadn’t known that part, only that he had been thrown to the ground at one point. This brought up a whole new set of concerns for her. She sighed, gently brushing her husband’s hair away from his forehead. She would have to wake him up every so often to make sure he didn’t have a concussion.

He groaned softly at her touch, and she noticed a bruise starting to blossom at his temple. It wasn’t going to look pretty come tomorrow. The thought of Manolo trying to hide it with is hair made her smile; she knew that he would do everything in his power to minimize the damage for Joaquín’s sake.

She then thought of something. It would be the perfect opportunity to track down K’tsal while her husband was sleeping. María would give it some time first and make sure that Manolo would be safe if left alone for a little while.

He wasn’t happy about it. Manolo was a very sound sleeper, and wasn’t overly pleasant to deal with when woken before he could do so himself. Every half hour or so, María would poke and prod him awake, checking his eyes and asking him questions. When she was satisfied that he seemed to be doing alright, she ran her hand through his hair until he fell back asleep. Once she was certain he was sleeping, she gave him a soft kiss on her forehead and left the house in search of the warrior woman.

Finding her was harder than she thought it would be. María didn’t know the woman very well, so she didn’t have a set idea of where to find her. She knew that K’tsal had been staying around the church and orphanage, but not much more than that. The thought of the first meeting she had with the woman made a smile appear on her face.

It was late evening, and there was a horrible thunderstorm raging outside. María had been trying to make her way to the orphanage, or what was left of it, to drop off some extra bread she had bought that afternoon for the orphans. When she finally made it to the building, neither of the children were in sight. They always seemed excited to see her, so it was strange that they weren’t waiting for her. After poking around a little, she finally found them: they were curled into either side of someone she had never seen before. 

They looked scared, practically clinging to the person, and when there was a thunderclap the children dug their heads into the person’s sides. María watched as the person held them close, running calm fingers through their hair, and humming a soft tune to them. The children eventually calmed down, and María finally found herself moving towards them.

After that they had struck up a conversation, and María found it sweet that K’tsal hadn’t once let go of the children until they had fallen asleep. She had then helped María put them to bed. 

The memory left her mind as she found herself in the courtyard of the church, thinking it was as good a place as any to start her actual search.

María crossed her arms in front of her, trying to plan out her best course of action when she heard a soft curse. Looking around, she didn’t see anyone obvious in the area. _Odd…where could it have come from?_ Another harsh tone, and María’s eyes were drawn up; there on the roof of the church, she could see feet hanging over the edge. She recognized the boots as K’tsal’s and she hurriedly started trying to find a way up. The scaffolding on the side of the church made an excellent option.

She quickly made her way up, cautiously and quietly stepping onto the roof of the church. The woman wasn’t very far from her, and she appeared concentrated on her shirt. It’s then she noticed that the piece of clothing was in her hands, rather than on her back, leaving her in what looked like a leather vest. K’tsal’s bracers were also set aside from what María could see. She was snapped out of her thoughts when the woman called to her.

“Are you going to stand there staring all day, or are you going to join me?” The woman called, not even looking up from her work.

Thinking nothing of it, María walked over and took a seat next to her. She also dangled her feet over the edge of the building, and her breath left her at the sight. From up here, the town was beautiful. She could see the bullring, the town gates, even her old home from this height – and the view of the desert was breathtaking. “I can see why came here.”

K’tsal made a soft sound in her throat, continuing whatever she was doing with her shirt. María looked over and saw that she was sewing up a part of her shirt. Her brows knit in confusion, and then she really _looked_ at the woman.

She had a cut on her cheek, and another on her arm, and her scarf was wrapped around her neck in an odd way. The woman refused to turn her head, choosing to look at María out of the corner of her eye. With her shirt off, María could see the patchwork of scars littering the woman’s skin. It was then she remembered what the cadet had told her earlier, that K’tsal had a run in with an assassin. Upon closer inspection, she could see a stain on the scarf on the other side of the woman’s neck from where she was sitting.

 _Not a god then, gods don’t bleed_. “Are you alright? That doesn’t look good, maybe you should have it checked out…” María offered. A wound on the side of the neck that bled that much couldn’t have been good. Something else occurred to her, “How did you know they were assassins?”

“I’ll live.” Was her reply. K’tsal still didn’t look at her, hissing under her breath when she stuck herself with the needle. “ _Sekel._ Let’s just say I’ve had run-ins with their kind in the past.” The woman shook her hand glaring at her finger and then the needle like it was the objects fault. “Was there something you needed, _tal nae_?”

María was quiet a moment, her lips thinning as she pressed them together in thought. She was going to ask why she wasn’t being looked at, but hesitated. There was something tense in the woman’s shoulders that halted her question. “Um…maybe.” María folded her hands in her lap, almost twiddling her thumbs trying to think of the right way to ask. “What…do you know about magic?”

K’tsal paused in her sewing to look out into the desert. A moment passed and she returned to fixing her shirt, speaking in that calm way of hers. “Why do you think I know anything about magic?”

María did fidget then. Maybe she was going about this the wrong way, but she had to try. “Manolo, my husband, he told me he saw you…change.” She felt terrible for ratting out her husband, and he would be mad at her later, but he would get over it. She was trying to keep it vague enough without giving too much away. María wasn’t even going to mention about how he felt around the woman.

The woman made another sound in her throat, the noise contemplative, but didn’t say anything immediately. After a few minutes of silence, she asked, “Your mate…I recognize his uniform. He is one that fights animals, yes?”

She was caught off guard at the question, not expecting for the conversation to shift to her husband. “Yes, he’s a bullfighter…but he hasn’t ever killed one. Manolo doesn’t believe in killing it.” The thought brought her a smile, but it quickly turned into a frown. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t care for blood sports,” The woman said, her eyes darkening, “…and I didn’t think you did either. Now I understand why you are with him.” Whatever K’tsal had been thinking about had passed, her eyes clearing. “But, I’m going to tell you the same thing I told your friend: keep an eye on him; they don’t always come back right.”

María opened her mouth to ask how she knew that, but didn’t get a chance. She’d have to ask about it later.

“Now, what is it you were curious about?”

 _That was surprisingly simple_. María had thought that K’tsal would at least try and deny _something_. Instead, she seemed open to her questions. “I think there might be something magically wrong with Joaquín.” Maria felt a shiver run down her back when K’tsal looked at her out of the corner of her eye, the woman’s gaze piercing. _That was a strange reaction._ She did her best to push the feeling away.

“What happened?” K’tsal’s voice had a slight growl to the end of it, more so than normal. Her eyes also seemed to have taken on a harsh glint, but it wasn’t directed at María.

Maria only hesitated slightly before she told the woman what had happened earlier that morning. “Can you help?”

The woman growled low in her throat; a deep, rumbling sound that Maria could feel in her chest. It was a sound that a human couldn’t have made. “ _Meh kor ez Me seer nah godek, Me neh gotek kellek em!_ ” María watched as something in K’tsal features twisted, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end…almost like there was a surplus of static electricity in the air. The woman seemed to be mulling something over, her features still remaining displeased. María also noticed how her already tense shoulders seemed to curl even more. After some time, the woman let out a huff and returned to her sewing, her shoulders seemed to relax as well as the static seeming to clear the air. “I might be able to.”

María waited a few moments, but received no other response. She tried to keep her uneasiness in check. “Will you?”

“Perhaps…”

María was just about ready to shout at the woman and demand answers, but noticed the smirk at the corner of her mouth. K’tsal was playing with her, but she couldn’t tell if the woman was being genuinely playful, or cruel. María kicked her feet, tapping a finger against her thigh. “You’re not just going to _give_ me the information, are you?” K’tsal’s smirk turned into a grin and María sighed in exaggeration. _Ok, not being malicious then, might as well play along_. “And I thought you were my friend! What do you want?”

K’tsal looked up, seeming to be in thought. “How about a trade?” The woman finished up sewing the one hole and cut the thread with her teeth. Before she started work on another, she finally turned her head to face María.

María’s eyes widened at the scar on the woman’s face. Her mouth opened and then closed, thinking it better not to ask. “W-what kind of trade?” She tried not to stare, but her eyes kept being drawn to the area.

K’tsal’s eyes seemed to soften, letting out a sigh. “It happened a long, long time ago, _tal nae_. Nothing you need concern yourself about.” The woman returned to her sewing, “An information trade. You tell me about something I want to know, and I’ll give you all the information you’ll ever need to seek.”

That seemed almost too easy. María narrowed her eyes at the woman. “What did you want to know?”

“I would like to know what happened to your town. And I mean what really happened, not what will go in the history books.” K’tsal said with a smile.

That sent up red warning flags. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Because I’ve already asked a few people, but none of them have given me useful information, much less the truth.” The woman looked at María again, “I can _feel_ the magic here, child. _Something_ happened and I want to know what.”

María observed the woman sitting next to her. She herself didn’t get a bad feeling from her, but she also knew to trust Manolo’s gut feelings. María briefly thought if K’tsal didn’t want to talk to her, then she wouldn’t have. Then again, she wasn’t being overly forthcoming with information. Weighing her options, María decided to take a chance and trust that K’tsal was going to come through on her half of the ‘trade’.

She started by giving a little back story of the town, and how she had been gone for near a decade to study in Spain. K’tsal didn’t ask questions, which María was grateful for, and she told the woman about when she came home and the events from there as best she could. She told K’tsal about the bullfight, about her welcome home dinner, about Manolo and Joaquín acting like complete idiots…at that part she had started talking a mile a minute, finding the situation humorous now.

“ _Ek! Me kannon unek es mor ku eh spek kes!_ ” K’tsal raised her hands to catch María’s attention. “Please…more slowly.”

The broad smile on the woman’s face put María at ease, knowing that she wasn’t upset, merely lost. María smiled sheepishly at her; she had forgotten that K’tsal was not a native speaker. “Sorry! I’ll try and keep from running off again like that…” After catching the woman up on what she had missed, María continued to inform her on what had happened. Manolo’s proposal, and her run in with Xibalba’s snake, Joaquín reviving her…even the parts about how she agreed to marry him to save the town.

María was surprised when K’tsal reached over and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “That was a very brave and selfless thing you did, _tal nae_.”

She nodded, trying to ignore the feeling of her heart constricting a little at the thought of what almost happened. María then told her about the attack on the town and how it interrupted the wedding…how Chakal was only after the medal that Joaquín had. She told the woman about Manolo blasting through the ground, leaving out the part where he kissed her, along with his departed family, and the massive battle that took place. She ended the story before her actual wedding, thinking that was more than enough for her to know about.

K’tsal was pulling her shirt over her head and relacing her bracers when María had finished. “That is quite the story. I understand now why the other town’s folk didn’t want to talk about it.” When her bracers were secure, she curled up a leg and rested her elbow on it. “I’m guessing things like that don’t happen often here.”

“No. It was rather surprising to say the least.” María agreed, watching a flock of birds fly past the church.

The woman hummed low in her throat, turning away from María to dig around in her pouch. When she turned around, she had a book in her hands. “Fair is fair…this should have anything you wish to know it in.” K’tsal handed the book to María, watching her with curiosity.

María looked over the book first, brushing fingertips over the illuminated title. The swirling and sharply pointed letters were foreign, and she couldn’t read them, but they were beautiful nonetheless. It was a medium sized book that was leather bound, the edges worn and faded with use. She briefly thought for a moment that it could have been centuries old, but if that was true than it was in remarkable condition. For the heaviness of the bind, it wasn’t a thick book, in fact the covers practically touched. _How much help could a book this thin provide_? Knowing better than to judge a book by it’s cover, María decided to open it and find out for herself. When she started looking over the index, she found that it was more of the lettering from the front cover. She flipped through a few pages, but found the same to be true for all of them. She huffed, giving a suspicious look to the woman on her left. “I can’t read this.”

“Ah! My mistake, here…” K’tsal opened her hand to take back the book, and María handed it over. The woman closed the book, looked at it a moment, and then turned to María and struck her head with the book. It wasn’t a hard hit, but it was enough to make a dull _thump_ sound. K’tsal then offered the book back.

“Hey!” María squawked, reaching up to rub her forehead. “What was that for?” It didn’t hurt, but it was a surprise. She scowled at K’tsal who only offered her a teasing grin in return. Let out a huff, María grabbed the book out of the woman’s hand and glared down at the cover.

She was surprised to see she could read the title of the book now. María stared at it for several minutes before pointing at it and looking at K’tsal. “How?”

“Magic.” The woman waved her hand at the book, encouraging María to open it again. “The book can change languages for a reader; it just needs a little help doing so.”

When she did, she found that all of the index listings were now legible. She scanned all the index headings, flipping page after page but only finding index headings. She narrowed her eyes at the book. “I don’t understand, where are the rest of the pages?”

“They will only appear when the need to…saves on space.” K’tsal reached over and opened the book to the first page, setting it gently in María’s open hands. “Now, think about what you saw…anything you thought was strange, or possibly magical.”

María looked down at the open book before her. She thought about Joaquín, how his eye turned that sickening green color, how he was acting strangely, his extra strength, even the medal that she had seen him wearing and focused on that. After several minutes, select headings started to glow, she flipped several pages, seeing the same had happened on other pages. She scanned over the headings. “What does this mean?”

K’tsal smiled, “It means that you got it to work.” She pointed to one of the glowing lines, “This is a possible answer to the question you asked. It will take a little bit of trial and error for your searches. When you wish to read something from that section, simply say it out loud, and the book will bring it up for you.”

María flipped back to the first page, looking for the first glowing line. She squinted at the words, trying to understand their meaning. She pointed to the line, “What does this mean?”

The woman shrugged, looking at the book, but not too closely. “I don’t know, I cannot read your language.” It was then that K’tsal stood, reaching up and stretching. “But you do not have to know their meaning, simply say the words and the book shall provide. You will have to practice, in time you will become more adept at understanding the book.” The woman looked about ready to leave, but thought of something else. “Also, if you see an incantation, it will be written in looping letters, please, _do not read it out loud._ I doubt you want more magical problems than you already have.” The woman than made to leave, walking around María and heading towards the scaffolding.

María closed the book and stood quickly, going after K’tsal. “You’re just going to _give_ this to me? Don’t you want it back?” She clutched the book to her chest, not wanting anything bad to happen to the magical item.

K’tsal looked over her shoulder with a smirk. “When you wish to give it back, simply think of me and snap your fingers. It will return to my possession.” The woman then gave a polite wave to María, “Take your time, if I have an emergency need for it, I can call it back.”

“Wait!” K’tsal halted her movements, turning her attention back to María. She was quiet a moment, her mind running over everything…but mostly trying to process that this woman, obviously some kind of being of magic, was willing to help her just because she _asked_ for it. From what she had read of magical creatures and legends while in Spain, they shouldn’t be nearly this helpful. There was _always_ a catch. María needed to ask, because she _had to know_. “Why…why are you helping me?”

K’tsal cocked her head to the side, appearing to think over her answer. “Your friend, Joaquín…he strikingly reminds me of someone I used to know, and who was a dear friend.” She looked like she wanted to say something else, but decided against it with a shake of her head. With a nod for a goodbye, she was heading down the scaffolding with a speed like she was just walking down a staircase.

María rushed over to thank her, but when she reached the edge, K’tsal was nowhere in sight. She blinked, thinking it strange how someone could just _disappear_ like that, but she chose not to question it. María brushed her fingers over the book again, still holding it tightly to her, but her lips quirked into a smile. Now she could get answers on what was wrong with Joaquín, and maybe even Manolo. With a pleased sigh, she started her decent down the scaffolding and headed home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts on this. I'm thinking there might be three all together, but if there's something else you'd like to know, or maybe a part that was rushed over, feel free to tell me!
> 
> Translations if anyone is interested:
> 
> Sekel - shit
> 
> Meh kor ez Me seer nah godek, Me neh gotek kellek em! - Next time I see that god I'm going to kill him!
> 
> Ek! Me kannon unek es mor ku eh spek kes! - Ah! I can't understand what you're saying!
> 
> tal nae - an endearment normally given to someone younger, meaning 'little one' or 'young friend'.


	2. Lamentations of the Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one takes place after Maria and Manolo's first conversation in chapter 5 part 1. Manolo tells Maria about the vision he had...and a few things he never told her. Adding a warning for mentions of suicide.

_“Now start talkin’.”_

Manolo breathed in deeply and let it out as a long sigh. _Where to even start?_ Did he start with the vision, or his developing theory? He shifted, trying to make himself more comfortable on the bed in an attempt to hide his nervousness. 

What did he have to be nervous about? It’s not like she had seen his visions like he had…but that didn’t make it any better. He opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut, thinking that wouldn’t be a good way to start. _Start from the beginning_ … “I think it was my…sixteenth birthday. Or somewhere around it.”

María hummed, letting him know that she was listening. She wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled into his side.

He draped and arm around her shoulders, her warmth a welcoming comfort. “I’m not sure, but I got the feeling Joaquín had been away for a while, and had made sure to come home for my birthday.” Manolo smiled, closing his eyes, trying to pull the vision from his memory. “He might have been a few days late. But we met under the big tree outside the town after dark, and he had brought some of General Posada’s beer and a bottle of tequila.” His smile turned into a wry smirk, “I should have known something was strange then, how he kept matching me for drink and shot, but never appeared to feel the effects.”

She laughed softly, “You two drink like that often?”

Manolo knitted his brows, “I…don’t recall. But if I were to guess, I’d say no. With Papá breathing down my neck about my training, and Joaquín always being stolen away by the General, or running off on another adventure…there was never the time, practicality or opportunity.”

His wife laughed outright then, “Is there ever practicality to drinking that much?”

He went silent at that, being reminded of recent events. He tried to imagine how much different things would have been if he had just decided to drown his sorrows. Yes, he had been stupid, and rash, but…he might not have gotten married to María. Things could have been drastically different, maybe even worse. Manolo shook his head, trying to force the thought out of his mind. He could see out of the corner of his eye his wife was watching him closely.

Clearing his throat, he continued on to the best of his ability. “Anyway…after we had consumed everything, most of it having been given to me I’m pretty sure, he dared me to make up a song on the spot.” The smile returned to his lips at how poorly he must have sounded, with fumbling fingers and slurred words…yet he was never off key. “From what I remember, and it isn’t much, I sang about a magical mustache that flew around all of México saving people.” A goofy grin twisted on his face, and he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, “His name was Raúl and he wore a sombrero, and punched bad guys in the face to defeat them.”

Next to him, María was in stitches, hiding her face in his side to muffle her boisterous laughter. When she caught her breath, it was with a sharp gasp, and she had to rub at her eyes to remove the tears of mirth that had gathered there. “I…I wish I could have been there!”

The guitarist hummed, “Right, so you could make fun of me too? I’m sure he must have…” There was no way the soldier would have let him forget it. _So why hadn’t he ever brought it up?_

María continued to giggle, even though she was trying to calm herself down. “You’ll have to sing me the ballad of Raúl one day.” She gave him a squeeze around his middle, and he pulled her a little closer. “Was there anything else, or was that it?”

 _There was more, but he was still trying to figure it out_. “Not really…just the feeling of being happy…” Manolo trailed off, and the smile that had been on his face slowly dropped.

“Manolo?” She was looking at him now, the glee she had been feeling a moment ago no longer showing.

He looked down, avoiding eye contact. _He had been happy_. Every one of his visions, he had felt some kind of happiness. Every time he hadn’t felt the crushing weight of his father’s influence. _Every time_ he didn’t feel the duties or responsibilities to his family or his training. All of that had been the farthest away in his mind and he could _breathe_.

But he hadn’t remembered it. _Any_ of it. Which was probably why it was so easy to…

Manolo took a deep breath, knowing that he had to tell her. _Needed to_. It wasn’t fair that she still didn’t know the circumstances around his death. He had been a coward, hoping that he could just bury it and take the secret to his grave. Again. But she was his wife, and she deserved to know.

He felt her cool knuckles on the side of his face, but the normally comforting gesture made him close his eyes tightly and turn away from her touch. Even when she spoke to him, he didn’t look at her. “Talk to me.”

He tried to speak, but he had suddenly lost his voice, his throat closing up when he opened his mouth. Manolo swallowed thickly, knowing that this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. “There’s…there’s something you need to know.” He felt her hand gently touch his arm, and he forced himself not to jump at the contact. “About the day you…I…when I…died.”

She didn’t remove her hand, silently telling him to continue.

“After…after you were bit, I ran into your father and Joaquín…they took you away and…” Manolo left out his exchange with the soldier, thinking that it was unimportant, and continued to speak in halting sentences. “I returned to the tree.” He was still looking down and away from María.

“You went back to kill the snake.” She said softly. He could hear the smile in her voice, and it made his chest constrict painfully.

“No.” The word didn’t want to come out, but he knew that it needed to be said. “I…I don’t know why I went back, but I wasn’t thinking about the snake.” _Gods, he wished he had his guitar right now, it might have made this easier._

When he didn’t immediately continue, she spoke. “Manolo?”

“María, I just…I wanted to be with you so badly.” Manolo’s voice had grown very quiet.

The hand on his arm went tense and then it was removed. “Manolo?” Her voice held a wary edge to it, and he hated that he was the one who put it there.

“I was given a choice…and I made my decision.”

The _crack_ was loud in the silence of the room, and Manolo automatically reached up to cover his now throbbing cheek. He should have expected it, but for whatever odd reason he didn’t see it coming…even if he had been looking at her. Now he chanced a look at his wife and he froze at what he saw.

Angry didn’t even begin to cover what he was seeing. She had gotten up from the bed after she had struck him, and she was looking at him with a mixture of rage and anguish. Her hands were balled into fists, her shoulders were tense, and angry tears were pricking her eyes. Her entire body was shaking and he had the overwhelming urge to get up and embrace her, but he knew that it would have resulted in bodily harm.

María looked incapable of speaking for several minutes, staring at her husband in complete disbelief. “ _Are you kidding me!?_ You _let_ that snake bite you!?”

Manolo didn’t say anything, and his eyes dropped back to the bed.

“No…” María gasped, and he heard a heavy _thumping_ sound. She must have punched something, the sound making him flinch. “You _wanted_ it to bite you.”

Manolo stood from the bed, intending on walking around to where she was. “María -”

“How could you?” She shouted, starting her furious pacing up again. “You stupid, selfish son of a bitch!” María rounded on him finally, shoving him roughly enough that he collided with the dresser and bounced off. “How could you do that? To Joaquín? To your _family_?” She was gesturing wildly with her hands, he voice cracking with emotion and the tears shimmering in her eyes. María went to hit him again, striking him in the chest with the side of her fist.

Manolo let her, welcoming the _thumps_. He let her continue for a few more moments, but her assault was stopped when he caught her wrist. He held her wrist firm, but was careful not to harm her. María struggled in his grasp, but he could tell that she wasn’t really trying. His wife could have easily broken free and had him on his ass with little to no effort. 

She stopped her struggle altogether when she looked and him, and saw the agony that was written into his features. “You ask how I could do _that_?” His voice was eerily quiet, but laced thickly with emotion. “I thought you had died. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I thought I had lost everything!”

“You had Joaquín!” María countered, her anger coming back full force.

“As far as I knew, he was never here!” Manolo verbally pushed back, all of a sudden seeming to tower over her. “I had truly thought that he didn’t care about me anymore! When he was here, he never came to see me; he was always with the other soldiers and your father!” He saw her open her mouth, but he already knew what she was going to say, “And my family? _They didn’t care either_. Every day of my life was spent in that _god damned_ bull ring. My father disapproved of my music, he disapproved of my not wanting to kill the bull…he disapproved of _me_.” He clenched his jaw, looking down into María’s wide eyes. He let her hand go, and it dropped limply to her side. “I didn’t want that life. I didn’t want to live in constant fear that Papá one day would get so upset that he would _break_ the guitar you gave me.” Manolo looked off to the side, a mirthless smirk pulling at his lips. “He nearly did a few times.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw María’s face fall, loosing a great deal of her previous anger. Her eyes were still watery, made even worse by how large they looked in that moment.

“Did you know that he practically disowned me?” His voice had gone quiet again, a choked noise coming from his throat. “He said I was no Sánchez…after I had been publicly humiliated by _the entire town_. Because _that_ wasn’t enough of an insult.” Manolo closed his eyes and let out a shuddering sigh. “Then I lost you the very next day…” He reached out with a shaking hand, and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger there. “ _Gods_ , María…the thought of seeing you again was the only thing that kept me alive.” His own hand fell to his side, and he stared at the floor. “When I thought you were gone…I had nothing left to live for.”

“You did, you were just too selfish to see it!” María scolded her anger still smoldering.

“What? What did I have?” Manolo’s voice was raising again, his hands starting to gesture. “Nothing but pain and misery! I didn’t have happy memories; they were all buried somewhere in my head where I didn’t know they existed!” He watched as María’s eyes widened again. He wanted to look away from her, but he forced himself not to. “That’s right…every single vision I’ve had has been a pleasant memory. Every. Single. One. Things from my childhood and teenage years after you left that made living bearable. If I had _remembered_ -”

“You wouldn’t have killed yourself?” María asked flatly.

Manolo flinched at her comment. This time, he did look away, but María grabbed his jaw and held it firm.

“That’s exactly what you did, husband.” She held eye contact with him, her gaze and voice stern. “Whether you wanted it to happen or not, you _let_ it happen without a fight.” She let him go and crossed her arms across her chest.

His eyes darted away, but soon returned to María’s. Manolo sighed, his shoulders sagging, “I-I know…and it was stupid, and selfish,” he added at her expectant look, “And I just…I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t.” She agreed matter-of-factly.

Manolo waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “I know now that it was wrong of me to do that. But at the time…I didn’t see another option.” He was miserable. He didn’t want to be a bullfighter, his family didn’t approve of him or his friends, Joaquín wasn’t around at all…

Joaquín.

He remembered the part of the vision that he hadn’t told María about. How as the two of them walked home, Manolo drunkenly leaned against the taller boy as Joaquín supported him. The arm around his shoulders had been warm, and it felt good to be tucked into the soldier’s side. He remembered Joaquín helping him climb the side of his house to sneak into his bedroom window. How Joaquín had humored him through his giggles. The hug goodbye that lasted a little bit longer than it probably should have…but it was a _good_ memory. Why had all his good memories been buried?

Why did they always involve Joaquín?

Manolo was brought back to the present by his wife staring at him, her features turning worried. He shook his head, “What I’m trying to say is…” He tentatively reached out and gently touched María’s fingers with his own. When she didn’t pull away, he fully cupped her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing her knuckles with a soft kiss. He made sure to never break eye contact. “Can you forgive me? For being a stupid, selfish, idiot?”

She tried to keep up her angry gaze, but ultimately failed and rolled her eyes. “Of course I do, you big goofball.” María clasped her other hand around Manolo’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. She then pulled him forward into a tight embrace, standing on her tip toes so she could rest her chin on his shoulder. “I’m still mad at you, though.”

Manolo was shocked that she was hugging him, especially after what he had told her, but he took it gratefully nonetheless. He finally wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. “I know.” He replied quietly. _At least she didn’t hate him_. They spent several minutes like that, but eventually he pulled away. “We should get some sleep.”

María gave him a dazzling smile, “You’re absolutely right.” She walked around him, sauntering to the door and opening it with a grand sweep. “Your couch awaits.”

He stood there for a second, before blinking slowly. “What?”

She crossed her arms and cocked her hip to the side. “What do you mean, ‘what’? You seriously drop this on me and expect to sleep in our bed tonight?”

“Uh…” Manolo started dumbly, “I…kinda did?”

“Well it ain’t happening, buster. Out you go.” María waved her hand towards the hallway, giving her husband a bright expectant look.

With a resigned sigh, Manolo started out the door. He let out a startled yelp and jumped when she landed a playful slap on his rear end. He spun around to look at his wife with wide eyes, but she pulled him down by his shirt and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“Goodnight, husband.” She said softly before swiftly closing the door.

Manolo could only stare with widened eyes at the spot where his wife had previously been. After blinking a few times, and deciding that he would never understand women, he made his way down the hall and proceeded to flop down onto the couch.

It was going to be a long, lonely, and uncomfortable night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's play a game called spot the reference! If you see a reference from a movie or show that looks familiar, send me a note. First one to get it right will get a one shot of their choosing. Happy reading!


	3. Glory to the Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place directly after Whispering Sands Chapter 5 . It's a little strange, but I don't think that should bother anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing on earth stays forever  
> But none of your deeds were in vain  
> Deep in our hearts you will live again  
> You're gone to the home of the brave

There was a ringing in his ears he couldn’t explain, and it caused his features to twist in confusion. He felt like he was falling, even though he could feel solid ground at his back. When his senses started coming back to him, he recognized that he was lying on his back, sprawled out on the ground…at least it felt like ground. Chancing to open his eye, he looked up into a swirling, pale gray sky. He blinked a few times, trying to understand what he was seeing. _Snow?_ It looked like soft, puffy flakes were falling from the sky, but it wasn’t cold.

If anything he felt numb.

With a gasp, his memory came flooding back. Being captured, tortured…thinking his friends were dead. Letting that…that _thing_ inside his mind. It was fuzzy until he saw María and Manolo in the caves. _Oh gods, he’d been shot and stabbed to hell_. His eye widened impossibly at the realization. 

_He’d…he’d…_ “I’m dead.” It was soft, almost a gasp of disbelief.

“Not exactly…”

Joaquín lifted his head when a shadow passed over him. He had to squint his eye against the light that came off the figure. _Why did that voice sound so familiar?_ Joaquín couldn’t see anything specific about the man in front of him, the light around the stranger much too strong.

The figure leaned over, and extended a hand, intending to help the prone soldier up. “Here, let me help you up.”

With some hesitance, Joaquín grabbed hold of the man’s hand and was practically pulled up to standing. The man’s grip on his hand didn’t falter and he had the strangest feeling that it was familiar. Now that he was standing, he was able to get a better look at the man in front of him. He still needed to squint his eye a little due to the brightness.

The man was his height, with a similar build. Silver and gold armor glittered in the ethereal light surrounding the man, an emblem of a sun emblazoned on his breastplate. The tunic under his armor was white with gold embellishments, and looked just as worn and battle born as the armor, yet no less impressive. The dark blue cape at his back seemed to flutter gently in a breeze that he couldn’t feel. There was a sword sheathed at the man’s hip, and Joaquín felt a strange pull towards it. He finally looked at the man’s face and his eye widened at the sight.

_How was this possible?  
_

Staring back at him appeared to be his own reflection, if a little older. The man had the same face, the same eyes, and the same easy grin as he saw every morning in the mirror. His hair was a little longer and smoothed back out of his face. He also had a full beard, though it looked no less impressive and well attended to. The other noticeable feature that was different were the man’s slightly pointed ears.

Joaquín was distracted when the man spoke again, “Come here, let me get a good look at you.”

He felt a shiver run down his spine at the man’s voice, it sounded just like his, but the accent was different and rough…it sounded familiar. The man seemed to peer into his soul as he looked closely at his counterpart. In a flash of glinting armor, Joaquín let out a yelp when the man slapped him upside the head.

“What’s the matter with you?” The man finally let go of Joaquín’s hand, only to lift both of his to the sky. “Making deals with dark gods? Letting the poison overtake you? _What were you thinking?_ ”

Joaquín rubbed the back of his head where he had been struck. “I…” He knit his brows, looking into the disapproving face of his near mirror image. “Wha…I’m sorry, who are you?” He looked around at the swirling gray mist surrounding them, “And where are we?”

The man in front of him rose up to his full height, which was only slightly taller than Joaquin, bringing his hand to his chest over his heart and bowed at the waist. “I am Irek, vassal and defender for my Lady of Light.” He straightened up and gestured around them, “This is the land where spirits walk the line between life and death.”

Joaquín’s eyebrows furrowed at that. “So I’m _not_ dead?”

“Like I said before, not exactly.” When the soldier continued to stare at him in confusion, Irek sighed. “Your heart has stopped, as well as your breathing…but your spirit lingers. They usually do for a short time after the body has failed.” His features then hardened once again and looked at Joaquín, “But I digress. You haven’t answered any of my questions.”

The soldier blinked at the older man. He didn’t know what he was talking about, much less how to answer. “I…don’t think I understand.”

Irek opened his hand, light shining brightly around it as something dark and green appeared floating above his palm. The medal flashed at Joaquín, as if to mock him. The bright glow around Irek’s hand also seemed to be sucked into the cursed thing. “Why would you take such a damned object from a god of darkness?”

“I was a stupid kid who didn’t know any better.” He answered honestly, the words tumbling out of his mouth without much thought. Joaquín then looked down at the ground in embarrassment, “I just wanted to be great like my father.”

The knight closed his hand into a fist, the image of the medal vanishing in a puff of green and black smoke. Irek sighed, and his features softened, “I suspected.”

Joaquín’s eyes snapped back to the man in front of him, a question in his eyes. Irek, wherever he was from, or _when_ he should have said, was curious. He could feel in his gut that they were connected, he just didn’t know how.

The knight’s eyes seemed to be studying him, as if unsure what to make of the soldier.

At least that made two of them. Deciding that he didn’t want to think about why they looked similar right now, he went forward with his previous line of thought. “Ok, this is weird. If I’m not dead, and I’m not alive, then why am I here?”

“Because I requested it.” Irek stated simply with a shrug. When Joaquín opened his mouth to speak, the knight beat him to it. “I wished to meet the man I’d been watching over all these years.”

The soldier’s mouth snapped shut at that. He eyed the man, once again taking in his glowing form. Then a thought struck him, and he blinked. “Are…are you my guardian angel?”

A moment passed before Irek let out a booming laugh, the sound at first startled Joaquín, but then he immediately calmed. The knight clapped a gauntleted hand on his shoulder, giving him a shake. “No, I’m not an angel…though at this point I might as well be.”

“Ok, you’re not my guardian angel, but you requested to see me.” Joaquín said slowly, finding the heavy hand on his shoulder as natural as breathing. _Why didn’t he think this was stranger than it was?_ “…because I died? Who – _what_ are you?”

Irek shrugged again, his hand that was on Joaquín’s shoulder going to the hilt of the sword at his hip. He was quiet for a moment, appearing to be thinking…possibly on what to say to him. “As I’m sure you have noticed, I’m a soldier, like yourself, from another time. From a completely different world, actually. During an important battle, I made a choice.” Irek’s eyes became distant and had a sad glint to them, rubbing absentmindedly at the golden sun on his chest. “In doing so, I saved thousands of lives at the cost of my own.” He smirked at Joaquín now, “Not much unlike yourself, actually…” Then the smirk dropped off his face and became slightly agitated, and he back-slapped Joaquín in the shoulder, “Except _you_ became a dark god’s champion! I still can’t _believe_ you did that!”

Joaquín rubbed at his shoulder, though it didn’t hurt. “Ok, fine. I screwed up. That still doesn’t tell me what you have to do with me.”

“I was getting to that.” Irek made a low sound in his throat that almost sounded like a growl. “When I made my sacrifice, and ended up here the first time, my Lady offered me a gift. Anything I desired; eternal legacy, to be her personal paladin, to have my _life_ back…”

“Something tells me you didn’t choose any of those.” Joaquín offered, watching the man in front of him.

“You are correct…mostly.” The knight cocked his head to the side, studying Joaquín again. “Tell me, if you were given the same choice, right now, what would you choose?”

The soldier stood quietly, thinking it over. Nothing immediately came to him except the urge to go back to his friends. It was almost like there was a strong pull on his heart to get back to them. “Is this a trick question, or…?” When he received no response from Irek, he sighed. He knew exactly what he would do; he’d return to Manolo and María. As selfish as it was, he would return just to see his friends. He wanted to go back to them, but he didn’t see how that was possible at this point. He was dead after all…well, mostly. What harm could it be to tell this being? “I would go back.”

Irek hummed, looking pleased with the answer. “That’s actually what I chose, but it wasn’t to go back to my own world.” He closed his eyes, a gentle smile tugged at the knight’s lips. “No, I wanted to cross time and space, see the things and people I had in my dreams. Which leads me to you.”

Joaquín noticed that Irek was gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, and he knit his brows at what that could mean. It was odd; he could almost _feel_ the man’s trepidation.

“You are essentially my spirit heir. A reincarnation if you will.” Irek waited and watched the soldier for his reaction.

Joaquín blinked. His mouth opened, but then snapped shut. He shook his head and brought a hand to rub at his temples. “Ok so…what does that mean for me?”

“Nothing except I get this opportunity to tell you how much of an idiot you’ve been.”

Joaquín huffed, putting his hands on his waist. “I’m guessing that has something to do with you hitting me earlier?”

“He can be taught.” Irek grinned, “You seem to have a knack for getting yourself into trouble. And boy have you dug yourself in deep, my friend.”

The soldier sighed, “I know that taking the medal was wrong. What else are you mad at me for?” _What reason would his previous incarnation have to be disappointed in him?_

“You should consider yourself lucky that I could help you combat the poison. I held that damn spirit at bay for a _decade_.” The knight said lowly, his eyes narrowing at the spot directly over Joaquín’s heart.

“Wait, spirit? What are you talking about?”

“That thing you’ve been hearing in your head. It’s an evil spirit that’s been leeching your soul energy for a decade. When it’s power source was taken away, when you gave back that medal, it didn’t have any more dark energy to feed off of. So what it was trying to do, what it’s _still_ trying to do is take over your mind and commit evil deeds, so that it can take over completely. _And you let it!_ ” By this time, Irek was gesturing to Joaquín in irritation. “I’m just glad that I managed to reach out to you and pull you back in time, before the evil completely overtook you! Goddess knows what would have happened had I failed.”

“How was I supposed to know it was going to do something like that?” Joaquín asked, his voice starting to rise a little. But he had pushed it away, when he saw that his friends were in trouble, he managed to push it away enough to gain control back… “It’s not like the stupid thing came with a warning!”

Irek growled in response, but held his temper. “No, you’re right…but you could _feel_ that it was evil the first time you touched it.”

Joaquín was going to say he was wrong, but he wasn’t. Even as a boy, Joaquín had known that the medal was bad news. He inherently knew that the man who gave it to him wasn’t someone to be trusted. Joaquín should have thrown the cursed thing away as soon as he learned that it had previously belonged to Chakal. But he didn’t. He ignored his instincts because he wanted to become a hero so badly. Joaquín wanted to impress María with all the amazing things that he would do with the medal’s protection…instead of helping him, it had ruined his chances. The soldier shook his head, trying to push the pain away. _It didn’t matter now._

“As long as it took you, though, I’m pleased that you got rid of it.” Irek said, bringing Joaquín out of his thoughts. “But that’s not the reason I wanted to talk to you…you know and recognize the medal and the after effects as a mistake.” He reached out and gripped Joaquín’s shoulder again. “No, I wanted to beat some sense into you.”

“I think you’ve already covered the beating part.” The soldier grumbled.

Irek gave him a stern glance, “I’m not sure I have yet. That depends on your next answer.” The knight searched Joaquín’s face, but for what, the soldier didn’t know. “Those two, María and Manolo…what do they mean to you?”

Joaquín paused, a thought occurring to him. “Wait, how do you know my friend’s names?”

The knight merely smiled and rolled his shoulder in a half shrug. “I knew them long before you did, Joaquín.” Irek lazily waved a hand at the soldier to indicate that he wanted an answer.

He had to stop a moment, a strange feeling curling inside him when Irek said his friend’s names as well as his own. It was almost like his heart beat a little stronger, even though he knew that was impossible. He as dead after all. 

Joaquín swallowed, finding that his mouth had suddenly gone dry. What did his friends mean to him? In one word, _everything_. Manolo and María were his best friends, had been since they were children. He loved María dearly, since as long as he could remember knowing her. And Manolo…something pulled at the back of his mind and made him frown.

A memory flashed in his mind. He was leaning against Manolo and there was wind blowing past them, he could feel his hair being ruffled…and he had felt so weak. It was a bone tired weariness that he’d never felt before in his life. He was trying to talk to Manolo, but the words weren’t coming out right, and Manolo said…

_“I know, I know…I love you too, brother. You know that.”_

But that wasn’t right, was it? Something deep inside told him that wasn’t quite right. That wasn’t what he’d meant. His eye became unfocussed, looking off into the distance as his brow furrowed. That feeling was stirring again, and he couldn’t place what it was…he _knew_ he’d felt it before. But he couldn’t _remember_ …

Joaquín was given a little shake, and he snapped out of his daze. He found Irek staring intently at him, a small smile gracing his features. The soldier shook his head, trying to clear it, but the feelings remained. Joaquín cleared his throat, attempting to get his voice working, “I-I…” _Aaaand of course nothing would come out, good job Joaquín_.

He was saved when the knight raised his free hand, letting him know he didn’t need to continue. Irek nodded, the smile turning into a full blown grin he knew all too well. “You don’t have to say anything. I can feel it too.” He rested his hand over his breastplate in emphasis.

Just then the world around them lurched, both men were thrown off balance. Joaquín felt a powerful jolt in his chest, followed by pain. In front of him, Irek groaned in pain, clutching at his chest. There was another tremor, and while Joaquín kept his balance this time, Irek was forced to the ground on a knee. 

“My time is short, you must make a decision.” Another streak of pain ran through them, and Joaquín gasped at the sensation. Above them the swirling clouds parted, a thick channel of light hitting the ground around them. Irek’s glow appeared to fade into the blinding light from above, and he shouted over the growing din to be heard. “You can either go to your afterlife, be it Valhalla, Heaven, or whatever counts as the Home of the Brave in your land!”

“Or?” Joaquín shouted back, feeling his body becoming heavy in the light from the sky.

Irek’s smile was broad, and even through his obvious discomfort his voice was optimistic. “Or you can return to where you really want to be.” There was another powerful wave and the knight had to struggle in order to get to his feet. He stumbled over to Joaquín, and unsheathed his sword. “Have…you made your choice?” Irek’s voice had become strained; a wind had started to swirl around the two, whipping the knight’s hair around his face.

Joaquín only needed to think on it for a split second to know what he wanted to do. He squared his shoulders and nodded at the knight in front of him. The soldier nearly cried out as a wave of pain rushed through him, cutting off his voice.

Irek steadied him with a hand on Joaquín’s shoulder. “Good.” In a flash, Irek had shoved the sword against Joaquín’s chest, the cross of the hilt pressing against the spot over Joaquín’s heart. The knight grinned brightly, winking at the soldier. “Take care of them for me…” And in an instant, there was a flash of blinding light from the sword, and Joaquín was struck by a powerful force, knocking him out of the circle of light.

It felt like he was falling. Joaquín expected to hit the ground, but the blow never came. Instead, his body seemed to feel heavier and heavier, and a searing, blinding pain was encompassing his whole body. It was like every injury he had incurred in the past day and half was coming back with a vengeance. Distantly he heard someone screaming, the sound inhuman and terrible. After a few moments, as the pain became exceedingly worse, he realized something.

The screaming was coming from _him_.

Just a few seconds after he was hit with this realization, something warm pressed against his temple, and he gratefully plunged into the dark abyss.


	4. Catharsis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These last scenes take place in chapter 7 of Whispering Sands. These are the back and forths between Xibalba and K'tsal

He materialized from his shooting tar form, his wings stretching out behind him. He looked around the scene, bored. It looked like almost any other cave you could find in the desert, nothing even remotely spectacular about it. He raised an eyebrow, looking over the scattered bodies lying near the mouth of the cave.

At least that was somewhat interesting.

He could feel the fear in the air, so thick that he could practically taste it. His interest twitched, and his red eyes surveyed the area. A low rumbling caught his attention, and before he had a chance to lazily look in that direction, something came flying at him. He moved out of the way in time for a body to hit the ground and roll in his direction, stopping face down. He looked upon the human with disgust, poking at it with the end of his staff.

Out of the shadow of the cave entrance, two glowing ruby eyes locked onto him. The low rumbling grew louder, and a creature stepped out into the moonlight.

Xibalba made a low displeased sound in his throat, using the end of his staff to roll the human over onto her back. “What are you, some kind of demented cat now?” His lip curled in disgust at the mangled thing. “If this is supposed to be a gift, then I don’t appreciate the sentiment…”

The creature rumbled at him, “Considering it an offering…” She brushed off her shoulders and front, dust and debris dislodging from her clothing. Her wings stretched out and she ruffled her feathers, more sand and dust falling from them. She then folded them neatly against her back.

He instantly hated her for it.

His own wings twitched, the ache and stiffness in them making him nearly growl under his breath. “Well, what am I supposed to do with her? Souls mean nothing to me unless they’re already dead…” He watched the dragon in front of him with veiled interest, his eyes half lidded in boredom.

She showed him a toothy grin full of malice, her eyes flashing dangerously. “I was assuming you would have an idea, being a creature of darkness…” She crossed her arms, one clawed hand tapping against her bicep. “Considering what you asked me to do…I thought you might want a crack at her.”

Xibalba narrowed his eyes further, his lips thinning. “What does she have to do with Joaquín?” He lazily waved a hand in the crumpled human’s direction. “I told you to help him with his current interests…I didn’t tell you to find him a new one…” His wings stretched and flapped uselessly in his irritation, his claws drumming lightly on his staff.

The dragon’s eyes narrowed, her grin turning into a snarl. “You don’t know?” Her shoulders tensed and her tail started flipping back and forth with barely suppressed agitation. “She killed him.”

“What?” His tone was darker than he’d meant it to come out, and his fingers curled around his staff with brutal force. The skulls in his eyes turned directly on the dragon, the red pupils looking murderous. “When did this happen?”

The dragon’s ruby gaze met Xibalba’s head on, and he was surprised when he saw no fear or hesitation there. “Sometime when the other younglings were bringing him home,” She lazily waved a clawed hand in the human’s direction, “After she had taken him hostage.” Her gaze fell and landed on the human at his feet. “He was lucky…he wasn’t far enough gone that he couldn’t be brought back.”

“So then he is alive?” Xibalba looked back at the human lump, only now taking in her broken and beaten form. _It was far less than what she deserved_ …

“Aye, for now.” Her left wing twitched, and he only just noticed that it was drooping compared to the other. “The other two are with him…it should help tether the boy until he’s better healed.”

Xibalba narrowed his eyes, cocking one of his eyebrows. He had heard of other ways to bring a person back to life, but had never heard of it successfully happening. All magic came with a price, and for three gods to bring back one human…well, that wasn’t an issue. For a single creature to bring back a human, that was something entirely different.

It should have been impossible.

He hated her even more.

When Xibalba spoke next, his speech was slow and calculating. “You’re taking your… _job_ of watching over Joaquín very seriously.” He could tell that the dragon wasn’t pleased with him; he could feel her anger on his skin. For whatever reason, he wanted to push the dragon. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with their first meeting and her attacking him. The god had to force himself not to smile at his own sarcasm.

She bristled, the air crackling with electricity. The dragon growled, and the vibrations traveled through the air and into his chest. Her clawed fingers twitched against her arm. She opened her mouth in a snarl, “Someone has to.”

He didn’t expect that, nor did he appreciate it. Xibalba made a displeased sound, “I don’t think I like you tone.”

“I don’t like your attitude.” The dragon shot back, pointing an accusatory claw in the god’s direction.

The god straightened to his full height, his wings flapping in irritation, and his grip tightening on his staff. But he made sure to keep his collected and bored expression. “Well I don’t care what you think.” Xibalba drawled, waving his free hand around. “But if you want my help, you might want to watch what you say to me.” Yes, if he could push the right buttons and she attacked him, he wouldn’t need an excuse to rip off one of her wings. It would be self defense.

The dragon’s eyes narrowed, flashing dangerously. “You wouldn’t even need me if you were a better guardian! “ She snarled, her pointed teeth bared at the god. “You asked for my help because you screwed up to begin with. I didn’t have to do anything for you.” The dragon growled, hey eyes thinning to slits, “In fact, I _didn’t_ do anything for _you_. I did it because I felt poorly for your champion.” She stood up straighter, eying the god up and down with disdain. “The boy deserves better than you.”

That struck a nerve. Yes, he had admitted to the dragon before that he had royally screwed up when it came to Joaquín, but that didn’t give her the excuse to throw it in his face. It angered him that he was trying to rile the dragon up, but it was backfiring. He still wasn’t used to anyone talking to him in such a way. She shouldn’t be getting away with it! _She won’t_ , his mind hissed darkly.

His wings flared out darkly and he was in front of her in a flash. He still had the height advantage, but in her new form, she was considerably taller. “I think you forget who you’re talking to, _snake_.” He rapped the tips of his fingers on his staff in contemplation. “That boy is mine to do with what I choose. He is _my_ champion, little good he did me.” Xibalba sneered, making a show of irritated he was in Joaquín’s disappointment. He then thought of something and had to force his lip not to curl in delight. “Maybe I’ll just kill him…it’s not like he’s doing me any good anymore.”

The god really should have seen the signs radiating from the dragon woman, he might have been able to save himself.

Before he could register what had happened, his breath was being choked out of him. The dragon had lashed out, one large clawed hand wrapped around the god’s neck. She squeezed tighter, and in his pain and lack of air, sunk down enough that his eyes were level to the dragon’s. Her eyes had taken on a strange sheen, appearing nearly reflective. The look he saw in those ruby depths caused his skin to prickle in fear…or maybe that was just the electricity seeming to dance across her scales.

“Maybe I’ll just kill _you_ , it’s not like you’re doing _anything_ for _him_.” She rumbled darkly, and Xibalba started to struggle. “I’ve killed your kind for less.” The dragon hissed, but it turned into a pained roar when a loud crack echoed through the night. In her momentary distraction, she loosened her grip enough for the god to get away, putting a good distance between them. One of her hands immediately went to her shoulder, trying to alleviate the pain her newly dislocated wing caused her.

While he was flailing to get away from the dragon, his hand had clamped onto her already injured wing, and he had pulled with as much force as he could muster. Luckily for him, it was a life saving decision. He watched the dragon with thinly veiled fury, rubbing gently at his neck. “Why do you even care about him? What investment could you possibly have in a human that you don’t even know?”

“He was mine first!” The electricity crackled in the air around them in her pained snarl. After the initial burst of energy, it seemed to dissipate. The dragon’s aggravation seemed to drain from her. “That boy…” She pointed off in the vague direction of the town, “In his previous life, was one of my own.” Her arm dropped and hung at her side, her eyes still narrowed at the god. “I agreed to help you because he had a striking resemblance to the man I knew…then I found out what he truly was.”

Xibalba blinked, his face slacking some. He still hadn’t lost his anger, but he felt better that he managed to cause the dragon pain. He quickly put his disinterested mask on. “Be that as it may, he is no longer your concern…” And thinking better of it, “Nor does that give you the right to _attack me_.”

The dragon growled, but her beak parted in a smirk. “Maybe not, but it made me feel better.” She made a soft noise in her throat, once again reaching up to her shoulder. “And I will not hesitate to do it again, if I find out you did anything else to him.”

“Is that a threat?” The god asked, fanning out his wings and trying to look intimidating.

She let out a rumbling chuckle. “No, demon…it’s a _promise_.”

He tried not to let the tone in the creature’s voice unnerve him. He had no doubts that what she said was true, but he also knew that it was incredibly hard to kill a god. However, that gave him very little comfort. He rolled his eyes in an attempt to look unimpressed, suddenly finding the tips of his fingers interesting. “Can we get on with why you called me here? I’m very busy.”

The dragon snorted, gesturing to the human still laying motionless on the ground. “Like I said before, she managed to kill your champion. I figured that you would want to do something with her, considering she harmed your…” She made a strange face, trying to come up with the right word, “ _Investment_.”

Xibalba hummed, eying the lump of flesh on the ground near his feet. “I do find it disagreeable that such harm would come to something of mine.” He waved his hand at the woman on the ground, and she started to rise. He continued to guide her with his magic so he could get a good look at the woman’s face. She looked like any other human he had ever seen; nothing special or impressive about her. The god turned red skulls back on the dragon. “I still don’t know what you expect me to do with it…I deal with the dead, _not_ the living.”

“Odd, I would think a god of darkness would have some idea as to what to do with her…after all, doesn’t your kind specialize in nightmares and torture?” The dragon cocked her head to the side, eying the god in front of her. “But if you need direction…I was hoping for something along the lines of ‘fate worse than death’. Now, I can easily provide that, but as you’ve stated before: I have no claim on the boy.”

He watched the dragon carefully, cocking an eyebrow at her. No, she didn’t, but she had done him a favor. The human still floating in front of him wasn’t dead, but very near to it, now that he looked closely. That could work in his favor. He thought of what he could do to her, knowing that she was the one responsible for killing his champion. Xibalba’s lips curled back into a gleeful grin, sharp points protruding from his mouth. _Yes, that could work_. “I might have an idea…or two.”

“I thought you might.” The dragon then made one last look at the floating human before turning on her clawed foot. The wind around them started to whip around, and Xibalba was finding it slightly difficult to keep his balance in the whirlwinds. He watched as she stretched out her wings, even the dislocated one, and started to lift off the ground.

“What, you’re just leaving now?” Talk about a dump and ditch. “What about the flesh bag?” He waved his hand at the human.

The dragon shrugged, now several feet off the ground. She had a slightly pained look in her features; must have been the dislocated wing. “That isn’t my problem.” The wind once again picked up to near screaming speeds, and the dragon was pushed along with it. She disappeared quickly into the night.

The god huffed, his wings ruffling in annoyance. She could at least have said thank you…Thinking nothing of it, he snapped his fingers and teleported into his realm. He had a few ideas as to what to do with the near dead human…but he knew exactly where she was going when he was through with her. While he despised his brother with every fiber of his being, his realm was a perfect eternal home for this useless excuse for a human. Xibalba always knew that humans were horrible, awful creatures, but this…this was something else.

This was inexcusable.

He would never admit it out loud, but he had grown attached to Joaquín over the years. He wanted to see the boy succeed in life, regardless if it benefited him at all. It was the main reason he asked that damned dragon woman to help to begin with. The god wasn’t oblivious, he could see how miserable Joaquín was…even with the spell on him. Some things were just beyond the god, and a human’s emotional potential was one of them.

Turning his attention onto the vile creature in front of him, he appraised her. The red skulls in his eyes slowly turned onto the woman, the empty sockets scowling into her subconscious. It wasn’t often that a live human made it into his kingdom, and when they did, it never ended well. A cruel smirk crept across his tarry face. “Show me what you fear most…”

* * *

Xibalba materialized on top of the roof from a streak of tar. He cautiously looked around, making sure there weren’t any humans around. He idly tapped his staff with his finger tips, debating on if he should stay or go about his business…he didn’t _have_ to be here after all. 

A quiet clicking sound grabbed his attention and he nearly jumped when the dragon woman appeared out of thin air. He managed to keep a straight face, but his feathers fluffed in his surprise. He eyed her suspiciously, since she hadn’t bothered to look at him yet. 

It was a long few minutes before anything was said. 

She cocked her head to the side, but was staring off into the night. “I’m surprised you came here…to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

After what had happened earlier, he was hesitant to get too close to the creature. He fiddled with his staff, trying to think of something witty to say, but words seemed to fail him. Xibalba eventually sighed, turning red skulls onto the dragon woman. “I came to tell you…that she’s been dealt with.” 

“Hmm, what was that?” The woman said airily, one of her ears twitching in his direction. “I thought you didn’t care.” 

He growled, turning on his heel and planning on teleporting away. He didn’t need to deal with this; he should have just stayed home. Coming here was a mistake. He was preparing to dash when he was suddenly struck by lightning. “Ow! What was that for?” 

“Remember what I said about harming the boy?” Her voice dropped into a low growl. 

Xibalba fiddled with this staff, rolling it between his hands. He looked anywhere but at the dragon woman at his side. She was smaller now, and no longer looked like a beast, but he still felt that small tremor of fear. “Um…” He started off, not sure how to talk his way out of this one. _Act stupid, that usually works_. Not. “I…have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

She was silent for another long moment, and the silence was eating away at the god. He never thought such a thing would bother him…maybe it was only because it was this horrible creature that tried to kill him twice. 

Eventually she tilted her head to the side in thought. “The damage and suffering you caused when you locked away their memories was greater than you could have imagined.” Her voice was soft, and surprisingly lacked heat or anger. In fact it almost sounded…remorseful.

That was unexpected. “What?” 

She did look at him then, and her ruby eyes flashed briefly, her pupils rounded from the lack of light. “I don’t know what you were trying to accomplish by doing that. Whatever benefit it had for you ended up being sorely outweighed by the disadvantages…unless you meant to make them suffer greatly.” 

Sure, he’d wanted the bullfighter to be miserable, but he hadn’t realized that he was also damaging his champion. In fact, he didn’t understand it at all. It didn’t make any sense. “Impossible…they shouldn’t have been overly affected by it.” He received a low growl in response, the sound making him tighten his grip on his staff. He’d use it as a weapon if he had to. 

The woman then sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand…it isn’t something that’s very common in this world.” 

“Enlighten me.” 

She sized him up, her eyes betraying her lack of confidence in the god. “I will save you the lengthy explanation…but know that those three humans share a very special bond. To see it is…exceptional. Even in my own kind it was rare, and for the humans of my world rarer still.” The woman turned her attention back over the town, gazing out into the desert. “Because of their bond…they are inherently drawn together. They complement the others and create a balance like a harmony. When you take away memories and emotions tied to one or the other, everything falls apart.” 

The electricity in the air crackled softly, and he could feel the energy against his skin. He shifted his weight, ready to dart away at moments notice. 

“The two who’s memory you corrupted…one became jealous, the other became depressed. Rather than working in tandem, a valley deep enough to nearly sever their bond was created. Destroying something as powerful as a bond is nearly unheard of.” Glowing cat eyes landed on the god, and he immediately felt like he was being scolded with a simple look. “It takes a great deal of hatred to accomplish something like that.” 

He averted his eyes, pulling his staff close to his chest. Well, she wasn’t _wrong_. When he had found out what was going on…the only thing going through his mind was that he would lose the bet if he allowed them to continue. He couldn’t stand the idea of not winning, even if it ended with a draw, so he cheated. He was just lucky enough that no one had noticed until long after the wager had ended…and even then, he still lost! Xibalba cheated _twice_ , and it still wasn’t enough to make him win. 

However…it wasn’t until that damn bullfighter won the wager for his life back that the god had realized that maybe, just maybe, he had royally screwed up. He silently cursed himself for his previous nature trying to show through…Xibalba knew that even with what he looked like now, and the kind of god he had become, he was still what he used to be at his core. As vile and hateful as he had tried to be for millennia, tried to accept his own curse and make it part of him…he still had that one little part in the deepest corner of his being. Which is why he had wanted to fix things regarding Joaquín. And since he was on probation from interfering in the affairs of man… 

“I can practically hear you mind buzzing, demon.” The woman said, a hint of a smile in her voice. 

He was silent for a moment, processing everything that she had been telling him, and not telling him at the same time. “You knew all along, didn’t you?” Xibalba could see out of the corner of his eye her ear twitch in his direction. “You’re saying that you knew what was happening here the whole time!?” His wings fanned out in surprise and anger, “And you did nothing? You let this happen!” His mouth had developed pointed teeth, his skull pupils turning to look directly at her. 

She seemed unimpressed with his display, crossing her arms over her chest again. “I didn’t at first, no…” She said softly, her tone becoming remorseful, “The younglings are more than capable of solving their own problems…I merely gave them the tools to do so.” The woman turned ruby eyes onto the god, and he found their bright glow unnerving. “Besides, I did nothing different than you.” 

His eyes looked away and then back to the dragon. “What do you mean?” 

The warrior woman cocked her head to the side. “I mean the great battle that took place here…three of the most powerful gods of death in the area and yet you did not partake in the fight. You could have easily stopped the battle from happening with a wave of your hand.” She rolled one of her wrists around for emphasis. “And yet you stayed out of the fight, only providing the younglings what they needed to succeed. How is that any different than what I did?” 

“We are gods, we aren’t supposed to interfere with man in such a way.” He made sure not to look her in the eye, knowing that he never listened to the rules regarding that anyway. “What’s your excuse?” 

She chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. “A creature like me has no right to be walking among humans.” She said honestly, with a roll of her shoulder. “But…I am drawn to places of great magical conflict. It is my curse.” 

He hummed, “We all have curses we must bear…” He decided it was time for a subject change. “You said the boy was fine…I’m happy to hear that.” The words left his mouth before he could think about it, and he nearly lost his grip on his staff. Xibalba hoped that she hadn’t heard him. 

Next to him, the dragon woman snorted, a smirk creeping across her face. “Careful, demon…your golden cage is showing.” She chuckled at his mumbled curses. “As I said before, he is alive…there’s no telling what complications he’s going to have because of his death.” 

Well, he’s going to get his memories back for one…that wasn’t going to be pleasant for his champion. The curse would eventually unravel, and Joaquín’s memories will return, though he didn’t know how long or how quickly it would occur. 

He supposed it wasn’t his concern…but he knew before thinking it that was a complete lie. As much as he tried to deny it, he had grown attached to the bothersome human. He was relieved that his champion was going to live, even with whatever traits, curses or abilities he came back to life with. Joaquín, even though he hadn’t won the bet for him, was still his champion…there was still an unbreakable bond between them. 

Xibalba should have thought about that before deciding using champions was a good idea. 

His attention was drawn away when she spoke up again, “With your permission, I’d like to give him a test.” 

The god rose an eyebrow at the dragon, his interest piqued again. “What would that be?” 

“I…have an object of great power and magic.” She started off slowly, almost as if trying to work something out in her head first. “If he passes the test, he’s welcome to keep it. It could very well benefit him in the future, as well as protect him and his bonded.” The dragon was quiet another moment before adding, “I only ask because he is _your_ champion.” 

“You lean quickly…” Xibalba hummed, thinking it over. There was more to what she was asking, but he wasn’t really interested in the details. If his boy passed, then it would benefit Joaquín in the long run. If he didn’t, well…it was no skin off his nose. “I don’t see a problem with it as long as you don’t kill him.” 

“Aye…” The woman looked down at her hand, the god only now realizing that it was bandaged tightly, but it still looked like it was bleeding. “You have nothing to worry about…I’m not going to kill him after the trouble I went through to bring him back.” 

“I would hope not.” His tone had become flat and bored once again. “Though I suppose you would have done it had I not given my blessing.” 

The dragon snorted, “As if a demon could give blessings.” 

He chose to ignore the barb, instead looking away from the woman and idly tapping his staff. Something occurred to the god, now that he had this… _pleasant_ conversation with the dragon. “You will not mention anything that has happened here, to anyone. Do you understand?” 

“Or what? What are you afraid of, demon?” The dragon woman said teasingly, “Don’t want to soil your perfectly abysmal reputation?” 

Xibalba clenched at his staff, “I can easily find out what your greatest fear is, _snake_.”

She hummed in her throat, “It’s only fair…I already know yours.” The woman looked directly at him, her eyes becoming reflective for a brief moment before returning to normal. 

“You…” He trailed off, words failing him. Never once has someone else beaten him at his own game. “I’m impressed…that doesn’t happen often, you should know.” He looked at her, looking through her almost, his eyes boring into her mind and subconscious. The god found very little in terms of living fears, but he did eventually find what he was looking for. “I would say that we’re even now.” 

The woman snorted again, this time sparks came out of her nose. “Took you long enough.” 

“Hmf.” The god once again took up his unimpressed appearance. “Now that that’s done with…I trust you won’t mention anything?”

“With regards to you? Certainly not. But about the events that transpired here? Legends are called legends for a reason.” She shrugged, her arms dropping down to her sides.

His wings stretched out, causing a shadow to fall over the dragon woman. He was slightly disappointed when she didn’t even flinch. He should have expected as much from a creature who works best in the shadows. “If I find out you told anyone about me, I will not hesitate to make your greatest fear a reality.”

The dragon’s mouth quirked into a snarling smirk. “Is that a threat?”

He returned one of his own, “It’s a promise.” And with that, he streaked across the night sky in a ball of tar. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading these little in-between chapters! And thank you to everyone who left a kudos, I really appreciate it! <3


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